Chapter 5

When Nick recommenced the Tales the next evening, my fellow writers/editors of an earlier Tale sat with me, including Tash, Helena, Lindy, and, unusually, Betty. We had been so caught up with our discussions that we remained together when we arrived at the theater, and decided, with shrugs, to continue being together. I think Lindy looked happiest about this, and made sure she sat beside her first female lover. And Betty sat beside me, winking.

“The morning following the successful consummation of Prince and Princess,” Nick began, “at breakfast, Anna’s uncle approached us worried.”

The older, devout, handsome, charismatic man thrust his head between Nick and Anna so as to be heard by both of them and no one else. “I’m worried,” he whispers.

“I’m fine, Uncle,” Anna smiles.

“Good to hear, but it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s more selfish than that.”

“Simon’s influence,” Nick guesses.

“Yes. He’s like me. An independent voice of God. The king and you, my princess, seems to have valued his word. And the bishop introduced him. It’s a mess.”

“But are the people who witnessed this part of your flock?” Nick asks.

“Some. Yes. I do deal mostly with those without anything. The slaves, almost a majority in this society. Of course in their numbers, they have importance. And I make sure they understand their humanity even if their masters treat cattle better. But I have gained respect from some people of power. Your minions of course, Nick. It’s not an obvious connection. Just a feeling we’re on the same side. But those unaffiliated with either of you, some have come to respect me as a man close to God. Maybe because I have my brother’s ear, but by in large the respect feels genuine. It’s them I worry about. And the news spread down to the slaves. That this man, this golden figure, a much more pleasant messenger of God’s word, with his pretty clothes and beautiful followers, has not just the clergy supporting him, but royalty as well.”

“I understand your concern,” Nick replies. “And I have my own. His presence and especially his angels endanger me and my angels. I have only two, my young twins, and he has several. Therefore we have to be careful and vigilant until they leave. We must be visible amongst the people during the day, and be protected by the king’s guard, who, luckily are more capable than the military in defense since they are made up of the most trusted and the best trained instead of conscripted and reluctant slaves.”

“True,” Anna’s uncle smiles. “I have my own, though few would know it.”

“But,” Nick continues, “this is all temporary. In a way, Simon has already been defeated.”

“How so?” asks the uncle.

“How do you think?” Anna smirks.

“Oh,” the uncle actually blushes. “So you think they will be gone soon?”

“A week or two, hopefully,” Nick speculates. “As much time as he needs to create new minions. That purpose, and his angels currying favors amongst lusty men, may actually be in our favor. It will distract them from any threat.”

“The angels currying favors,” the monkish man shakes his head. “Supposedly as God’s will.”

“And how long will that last, once the lust has been sated and the gorgeous ladies walk away, stunning asses disappearing from them forever? Once their minds clear, what will they think of such favors? To be blunt, they’ll realize how little Christianity has to do with getting fucked, no matter how well. They’ll seek your guidance, maybe just in forgiving the temptation. It’s a favors game in the end, gaining God’s forgiveness and His ear, getting Him back on their side.”

“I suppose it is,” the uncle sighs. “I hope, however selfish their interest might be, that they get Jesus’s message of peace and love.”

“Getting back to ... uhm ... influences,” Anna interrupts, “I believe Nick wishes a private meeting with you and your wife.”

“Our relationship is between us and God.”

“I insist, Uncle.”

“Playing the royal card?”

“If I must. Please.”

Her uncle gives her a reluctant nod.

“Let’s go then,” says Nick.

“Now?” asks the uncle.

“Yes. Bring your wife to your niece’s chamber.”

Again the uncle nods silently and leaves them.

“He may seem reluctant outwardly,” Anna smirks, “but I couldn’t help notice another outward sign. A certain tenting at his middle.”

“Which suggests you may be right,” Nick responds. “He has been reluctant to fuck her.”

Once guided to her room, Anna leaves Nick. The uncle and his young wife arrive soon after. Silently, Nick agrees with his new lovers’ assessment of the woman. A lovely exotic woman, he can see some remnants of his old eastern friends in her eyes. Her shape, preternaturally sexy, has their thickness, but only at the butt and breasts, with a much leaner curve between them. If she had chosen a life exploiting her face and shape, she could have been a courtesan in great demand. She chose the opposite path, interested in one man, seducing him with her sweet nature and her faith.

“Tell me why you have not brought this man a child?” Nick immediately asks the woman.

“I...” the woman blushes prettily and bows her head.

“You understand the process, don’t you?”

“Yes. Of course.” Her face hardens.

“And have you followed the procedure?”

“He ... won’t.”

“But you wish he would.”

Again the blush and bowed head. “Yes.”

“You must be exceptionally devout,” Nick addresses the uncle, “to resist this sexy woman.”

“It’s for her benefit,” the uncle replies.

“Is it? It doesn’t sound like it.”

“My wife...”

“What wife? She is your wife.”

“My first wife. Sex made her suffer. It killed her.”

“Are you that terrible a lover?”

“No!” they both shouted, making Nick chuckle.

“So you have enjoyed each other, pleasured each other. Good to know you’re not made of stone.”

“Sometimes he is,” she giggles.

“Marishka!” the uncle mutters.

“‘What’s that rock pushing at me, ‘ I said when we first laid together. You remember, my love. I pushed you back and revealed it. I knew it surprised you, but how many had I seen, hard despite sickness or injury. Men are such strange creatures.”

“You provoked their reaction,” Nick says.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Nick nods. “Only your husband.”

“Yes, and I could give him the pleasure he deserved, though not enough. And lucky for me, he appreciated my need and gave me pleasure as well, though not enough.”

“Show me,” Nick insists.

“What?” the couple both exclaim.

“Show me how you love each other.”

“It’s private,” the uncle objects, but his wife strips, revealing a ripe, voluptuous body meant for sex, and with her wide hips, for its consequences. “Marishka!”

“I want to show off what a great choice I made in husbands.” She lay on the narrow bed. Both men gaze at her.

“Impossible to resist,” Nick murmurs.

“She is.” The uncle kneels beside the bed and kisses her. Shy hands eventually move across her body, coveting her breasts for a while until his mouth joins them and a hand moves lower. It teases, sliding past a dampening cunt perfuming the air, and caressing her long legs, especially her thick, sexy thighs.

She moans loudly when his hand finally moves to her moist center. Nick approves of the uncle’s wetting his fingers with his mouth before they enter her and begin to slowly fuck her. He noticed the care taken by the thumb in caressing her hardening clit. Her pleasure climbs steadily, but orgasm awaits one final, surprising move which gains Nick his greatest approval. The uncle’s mouth moves down. He ends up crawling between his wife’s thighs. Fingers continue stroking her, but the tongue provides the coup de tête, flicking more and more rapidly over her clit, sending her into ecstasy.

“She’s ready for you Nick,” says the uncle.

“You knew,” Nick responds.

“Of course. We agreed we needed this to happen, to protect her womb, but it had to be you pushing us. Fuck her Nick.”

“Has she ever been fucked?”

“Never.”

“Then I should soften her pain.”

“No,” Marishka moans. “I want my husband to break my virginal skin. It is his duty.”

“And my honor,” the uncle adds.

“Off with your clothes and honor me.”

“I could still make it better,” Nick offers, disrobing along with her husband.

Marishka boldly takes hold of his long thick cock. “Very nice, but I prefer my husbands. I have heard of your power. Let me taste it.”

His cock becomes hers, entering her mouth. “I’m going to cum,” he announces.

“So quick?” she asks after removing his glans from her mouth.

“It’s for your benefit,” he smiles and she does, too, before it disappears with the lips extending, engulfing his glans. He cums and she swallows.

“Wow, it actually tastes good,” she comments.

“I know,” Nick chuckles. “Keep sucking. I don’t get sensitive.”

“Fuck me husband,” she says. He has been coating his glans with her plentiful juices. Eagerly she takes Nick’s semi stiff cock back into her mouth, revealing both skill and enthusiasm sucking him to full hardness.

She tightens when her husband breaks through. A tear emerges from her eye. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks.

Pulling Nick’s cock out of her mouth she replies, “Stay still. Give me a moment.”

He does as commanded, his wife once more blowing Nick. Her tilting her pelvis gives him permission, and he begins gently thrusting into her. “So tight, my love,” he moans. “I won’t last.”

“Go ahead,” says Nick. “When I cum inside her after you, it will help prepare her for a healthy birth. If your seed reaches her egg sooner than mine, it may mean I will need to give her more treatments.”

Pulling him out and fisting his hard cock, Marishka giggles. “You just want to fuck me more.”

“Believe me, it would never be a chore.”

After rapid thrusts, the uncle stiffens and then undulates, grunting his pleasure.

Her eyes go wide. “I can feel it pulsing into me,” she moans.

His ejaculations ending, the uncle pulls out, languidly moving out of the way for Nick, who quickly replaces him, thrusting deep.

“Fuck,” Marishka moans.

“Kiss her,” Nick commands, continuing his hard, deep thrusts. “Bring her pleasure.” Nick adds to it as well, caressing her clit while the uncle does as commanded, fingers caressing nipples during a long embrace of lips, tongues playing within. Awaiting her orgasm, when she stiffens and shakes with it, her lips separating to allow gasps and a low moan, almost a roar, Nick releases his sperm deep, the microscopic swimmers competing with the earlier ones in search of impregnation.

The possible, even the probable becomes the actual. By the next day, two fetuses, fraternal twins, begin developing in Marishka’s womb. Not the usual two eggs, but one incepted by two different sperm, dividing accordingly.

It doesn’t matter that Nick has become successful, protecting the gestation and birth of the babies, and any in the future as far as being allowed in the bed of this remarkable couple. Marishka proves to be, if not insatiable, because fucking definitely sates her, inexhaustible in her love of fucking, and having two cocks available is far better than one. And not just having a second available when the first poops out, but having another available to suck or, occasionally, double penetrate her more than doubles her pleasure. And being the wise and loving and dutiful husband, he obeys her wishes. Even if, unlike the princess and her husband, Nick’s presence in their bed adds nothing to his desire, except to make his wife all the more ecstatic, neither jealousy nor discomfort bothers him. Because, by the end of the day, filled with discussions between fucking, the two men begin a friendship which only gets stronger over the years.

In fact, like many years before with Kim and her two male lovers, Marishka becomes Nick’s companion. The princess can be viewed as one as well, but more as a necessity to provoke a gay husband’s interest in fucking her. The difference in the relationships stems from their interests and preoccupations. The princess, both by necessity and by desire, dwells in royal matters, political matters. While Marishka follows her husband spreading God’s words amongst their people.

Nick chooses to accompany these two spiritual beings. He avoids proselytizing this time, even if centuries of endeavoring in that very thing has made him perhaps the most expert in the universe. Instead he advises his friends, making them even more effective. And conversations, or a seemingly endless conversation, regarding God and Jesus and other spiritual matters, brings greater insight and surety to their message. It’s a careful manipulation, often playing devil’s advocate, so to speak, but making certain they win the debate, always strengthening their beliefs.

His choice not to preach, but to remain in the background, even if sometimes he helps them with someone at the edge of believing, strictly one-on-one, has to do with his efforts to seed minions. Fucking as many women as possible definitely does not fit any notions of a Christian, except the most devious, some messenger of god claiming fucking him would bring them among god’s favorite. In other words, a cult. He imagines Simon in his newest guise using this. Even believing it. A disgusting thought. Instead, he seduces with truth. “Worried about stillborn children or worse? I can solve that. None will be the wiser if you don’t want them to be. Your children will look like you, only more handsome or beautiful. And yes, they will be sensitive to my wishes, but I promise I will never push them to do what they don’t wish to do. They will never be my slaves.” And he does give them the best fuck of their lives. Something, Nick hears, Simon and his puny dick rarely if ever does. Too self-righteous. Even if, like Simon, he’s fulfilling an agenda, why not give them the best experience possible? Perhaps it strokes his ego to bring women such profound pleasure. So what? It also enriches his own pleasure. Nothing better than win-win, is there?

Travelling as a threesome (with a small group of protectors whose discretion makes their presence moot) and with the woman being sexy without trying (at least towards strangers) rumors, however true, become problematic. That becomes solved fairly soon in their peripatetic work.

After several jaunts throughout the capital city, and to enclaves at its edges, man and wife decide on their first long journey with Nick. Nick joins them towards the end of their discussion. He hears Marishka say, “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” asks Nick.

“You’ll see,” the uncle grins.

“Ready for you to fuck my ass,” says Marishka, kneeling at Nick’s feet and baring his middle. Her mouth finds his hardening cock. “And my husband to fuck my cunt,” she adds between slurps.

“Not quite ready yet,” Nick chuckles. Moments later he cums. She spits out some into his hand. Removing her robe, her body always an inspiration, she lays out on the bed. Nick brings his cock back to her mouth while he reaches down to spread his spend around and into her anus. His fingers widen her.

Once hard again, she smiles up at him. “I’m ready now.”

“Yes you are,” he chuckles.

Her naked husband crawls onto the bed and she climbs over him, guiding his cock into her pussy. Once he’s embedded, Nick embeds his cock into her asshole. Maybe the third time for this, Marishka’s enthusiasm exceeds the other times several times over. Her gradual climb to ecstasy becomes no more than a minute, and orgasm after orgasm occurs until her husband spends, Nick soon following, his ejaculations barely squeezing past her fluttering sphincter.

“Because of that, I’m ready,” she murmurs moments later.

Nick doesn’t even bother asking. A surprise is a surprise.

Over a month later, they arrive at a small village at the easternmost edge of the empire. Coincidentally, a group of trappers converge with them displaying their prodigious success: long poles draped with skins; bags full of meat. Their look, at least those carrying things, reveal the surprise. “Your village?” Nick asks Marishka.

“I was born here,” she replies. “I left as soon as I was able, with my older brother.”

Her sadness prevents him from asking about his brother’s fate. She answers anyway. “Conscripted and died in battle.”

“I can see the hierarchy,” Nick mutters quietly. “I imagine the ones who look like me own the ones who look like you.” The Slavic men only carry a small pack and a gun. He looks for whips and finds them borne by the native men.

“Yes Nick. It has always been that way, or so it seems. My village and yet never mine.”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Just young enough not to get fucked by my masters.”

“That’s why you waited to come back.”

“Yes Nick. Waited patiently for my husband to fuck me. And you.”

Nick roars, alarming those around him and causing an entire village to cautiously approach.

Marishka, the most shaken by his sound murmurs to her husband, “We should not have brought him.”

“I wanted him here.”

“To change things? For me? You know nothing can be done. The owners are too powerful, kin to the military leader. Always has been and always will be. I told you of the rebellion.”

“And the slaughter of too many of your people. Yes. But Nick is cleverer than any of us. You know whoever kin gets sent here, it is the useless ones, the idiots of the general’s clan.”

“And the cruelest.”

“Not always. Sometimes just the weakest. But this one is, unfortunately.”

“But Nick, in his state, he could slaughter the entire group of masters. What catastrophe would that create? And wouldn’t we be in danger, bringing him here. The general could claim it had been our purpose.”

“It won’t happen like that,” Nick says, suddenly close beside them. “I will revenge you and your people, but carefully. Trust me. I just need the lay of the land.”

“But your roar,” Marishka reminds him. “Such anger.”

Nick shrugs, “Or a call for attention. And it works. That strutting fool approaching us must be the general’s kin.”

“A cousin,” Marishka practically spits.

“The king’s brother,” the slovenly middle aged corpulent man bows his head slightly, his attention seemingly exclusive to the man. “I have heard of your approach. Quite the entrance.”

“That would be me,” Nick smiles. “I can be quite loud when I wish to be.”

The head honcho looks at him curiously. Of course the sound made cannot come from any mortal man. “And you are?” he asks.

“Nick. You may have heard of me.”

This doesn’t lessen the confusion, but the pompous man does look a little bit uncomfortable. He returns his attention to the uncle. “I’m not certain of your purpose here, so far from home. Much have been made of your spiritual dogma, but we have a fine priest here to save our souls.”

“I’m not here for his flock,” the uncle returns.

Glancing at Marishka seemingly for the first time, the head man smirks. “I suppose these natives have spiritual needs.”

“Being human, I believe they do,” the uncle mutters.

“We have accommodation for our infrequent visitor,” the head man says, “but nothing like what you are probably used to. Nothing royal here.”

“You might be surprised what we are used to. But I believe we will find accommodations amongst these natives.”

“That would be ... worse. Much worse.”

“Nevertheless, it is our intention. A man of God must be humble, no better or worse than any other man. Equal. To be perched higher expresses worship. Only God and his Son deserves that. A king or a general may be obeyed. It is expected. But God’s servant only expects to be heard and hopefully his message is received.”

“Still, I have a place for you, specific for strangers who may pass by. You need not intrude on these natives.”

“If I feel intrusive, I will take you up on your hospitality. But I believe it will not be necessary. If you will excuse me.”

The head man watches, unimpressed and a little disgusted, the woman, obviously from this village, lead the brother of a king into the village. A woman, whether wife or concubine, has no place ahead of her man, especially such a man of power, and especially such woman of a lowly race.

“An amazing woman, isn’t she?” he suddenly hears in his ear. Nick stands uncomfortably close to him, whispering. “Too bad you didn’t get to fuck her, hunh? That she managed to escape your slimy clutches.” Tethering an anger that flames inside him when Nick notices the smirking reaction to his friends’ destination, a small hut, like Prometheus chained to a rock and the vulture pecking at his heart instead of his liver, Nick mutters, “I see we have arrived too late to save her young friend, her only regret leaving this place and its horrors. A promise broken because of bad timing. How about another promise which will be fulfilled? That you will regret what you have done to an innocent girl and to her people. That her pain will be yours, only worse. Understand me coward?”

“What can you do with the power of my cousin’s army behind me?”

“Quite a bit, considering how long it took for us to get here. With campaigns to the south and west of the capital, it will take longer for such protection.”

“Not protection perhaps. Retribution.”

“Too late for you though, cousin,” Nick growls. A small satisfaction seeing the fat man shiver, but not nearly enough to salve his anger. “And any plans to communicate distress will make things worse for you. Understand?” Nick leaves the man without waiting response to his threat.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself before entering the small hut, knowing the horror he will see, it does little to dispel the despair that fills the room.

“She’s dying, Nick,” Marishka wails. She kneels beside a girl, too pale and sweaty. An old woman of even more Asian blood kneels on the other side of the pallet. “I didn’t protect her.”

“What have you given her, Shaman,” he asks the old lady.

“A potion to rid her of the fat man’s bastard,” the woman answers.

“Is this the usual consequence?”

“Not usual. Sometimes. It causes a fever that kills the fetus. It depends on the child whether the fever passes. I try to give it to only the strongest. I figured her to be such a child, even stronger. I do not understand.”

“How often did the asshole fuck her?” Nick asks.

A man standing away from the bed, old enough to be the young lady’s father, mutters, “Often, and others.”

“Then it’s not this poison. Or the poison only aggravated her internal wounds.”

“Can you save her?” Marishka mutters.

“I will try.”

“But...”

“I will try,” Nick repeats, but with a secretive wink.

Hope blossoms amidst the despair, but she wonders why not just say he will succeed. An image emerges in her mind’s eye, of a father moving from abject misery to joy. She nods.

“Are you ... him?” the old woman asks.

“I’m Nick.”

“The Nick?”

“You know of me?”

“A god of gods who have become trampled by history and terrible times, but who can still be heard, like the moans of ghosts emerging from hard earth, or the quiet rumble of distant thunder. There for only those who know to listen. Except your thunder could be heard by everyone.”

“I suppose it did,” Nick smiles through his anger.

“One of many powers. It is said, though vanquished, your blood managed to slip through. Your lover has it, as does this poor child. Creates great beauty and great strength of character, like the original, the chieftain’s daughter. Unfortunately, in these times, such things become a curse.”

“Which I intend to end.”

“How?”

“Don’t know yet. But I will. For now I have a graver problem. For it, I need everyone to leave.”

“Perhaps I can help?” the old woman asks hopefully.

Nick can’t help chuckling, “Do you understand what I intend to do?”

“Magic sperm.”

“How do you know so much?”

“Ancient texts,” she says in the language of the old tribe. “Scribed it’s said by the beauty’s husband, who seemed to foretell our fate.”

“A shaman like you,” Nick whispers, “though you would be known as a nurse.”

The woman nods. “It became necessary for us to be women because of it, though I believe it should always have been.”

“Probably,” Nick chuckles. “And you know he didn’t foretell your terrible destruction, at least not exactly. A small tribe between great kingdoms, to the west and the south, he only understood the inevitable. More than me, I think. I loved your people.”

The shaman nods sadly. “Perhaps you’re right. So, can I help?”

“Would it be better that you shoo away our witnesses and remain with me?”

“Much. Her father would trust me much more than a stranger who looks like the enemy.”

“I agree.”

After emptying the room of resisting people, the old woman kneels in front of Nick and releases his hard cock. “This couldn’t be from me,” she murmurs, before capturing his glans in her mouth.

“Why not? You’re lovely.”

“Liar,” she smirks before her mouth fills again.

“Start swallowing,” he warns her.

Her eyes goes go wide as her mouth fills further with cum. She swallows all she can. “Keep sucking,” he tells her, reaching down to grasp surprisingly supple breasts hidden beneath her robe. After teasing nipples for a while, he wets his fingers and reaches down to stroke her pussy, which she has already made available to him. “Naughty girl,” he chuckles. She shows him mischievous eyes.

A younger woman would have been slipperier already, but he feels the natural moistening beginning. Stroking inside her, finding her g-spot, his thumb gently pressing and rubbing her clit, helps her be ready for what comes next.

“Enough,” he commands her, pulling her off his resurrected cock with a pop. He removes her robe and then his and sits, pulling her onto his lap and guiding his cock inside her cunt. Though her flesh sags as expected, she has unexpected resilience and sexy, if softened curves.

His long thick cock needs to open her up like a virgin. A long careful plunge into her depths. She moans all the way through it.

Only after thoroughly encased in her does she comment, “I thought this was meant for her.”

“And I thought you wished to help me.”

“You didn’t need my help.”

“But you needed mine. You’re a horny bitch, aren’t you?”

She begins riding him. “Yes,” she moans, “but I didn’t’ mean to be selfish.”

“You’re not. I love to fuck.”

“Even this old woman?”

“With such a tight and lively cunt? Yes. And such scrumptious tits.” He leans his head down to capture her nipples. Angling back in his lap gives her even more pleasure. A bit of rubbing of her clit brings her over with a quiet growl.

“Are you going to cum in me?” she asks.

“Now you’re being selfish,” he smirks, pulling her gently off his cock. “Later I will.” Standing, he presses his glans to the girl’s mouth and murmurs, “Swallow.” Though quiet, the word seems to reverberate in the small room. The command is also given telepathically. The comatose girl swallows. “Good girl,” Nick smiles.

While digesting the curative, the girl’s eyes open with a surprisingly feisty expression. After one last swallow, she mutters, “I’m not a girl.”

“Of course you’re not.”

“Another treatment?” asks the shaman, grabbing his half-hard cock.

“Please,” says Nick

The young woman watches the fellatio. “Are you going to fuck me?” she asks.

“I have to cum deep inside you.”

Surprisingly calm, she simply nods.

He shifts around, the shaman following the move, keeping his glans in her mouth. His mouth reaches the youngster’s pussy. His tongue, carrying as much spit as possible, coats her lips and interior. He tastes the poison, the infection, the blood. Never has he experienced such unpleasant cunnilingus, nor one with such importance. Fingers bring the lesser though still effective curative deeper. Mostly he prepares her for penetration, of which the shaman has prepared him.

Crawling between her thighs, the shaman places his readied cock where it’s needed.

“Please,” says the young woman.

“This isn’t rape,” Nick explains.

“I know.”

He enters her slowly all the way, even pushing past her cervix, which makes her cringe. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I know,” she replies. They share a smile, hers through tightened face.

His cum jets into her womb. Somehow he remains erect.

She begins shifting beneath him, beginning a fucking motion.

“Ssh,” he warns her, holding her down. “Not this time.”

“But some time?” she asks.

“Yes. I promise. Do you feel me deep inside you?”

“Yes.”

“And something else?”

“Yes,” her smile ends, becoming a frown.

“Good. I want you to expel everything there.”

“Even you?”

“Yes. Concentrate. Push me out. Good.” His hand presses into her abdomen, finding the small lump, what used to be a fetus, but now only dead tissue. With remarkable skill, he guides it to her cervix, flexing around his glans. He can feel the terrible thing press against him. The object follows his glans through her cervix.